


Unnamed

by GrayceAdamsArchive



Series: Personal Development [2]
Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Heterochromia, Kissing, M/M, Prosthetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayceAdamsArchive/pseuds/GrayceAdamsArchive
Summary: They haven’t talked about it, it’s been almost a week, and they haven’t even acknowledged it beyond agreeing that they didn’t want tostop.They’ve been going about their lives like nothing has changed, but Vinnie can’t seem to stop thinking about Cavendish’smouth.





	Unnamed

**Author's Note:**

> "cav drinks some disgustingly cute drink and theyre disgustingly domestic. no horny this time gang its just tender. 1/10" pap's beta reviews are my favorite 
> 
> this is a bit of a bridge fic between parts one and three! just some nice fluff before things start Happening >:3c 
> 
> thanks to doc and papaya for betaing~<3
> 
> the art in this chapter was also done by papaya! you can find more of their mml/pnf art @doofdaily on tumblr <3 (they also run a v cute ask blog @askdakavendish >:3c)

 

Cavendish is a little more distracted than usual the next few days, and Vinnie’s a little twitchy in turn by the time the weekend rolls around and they’ve landed in the late twenty second century. 

“We need to take it in again,” Cavendish sighs as they climb out of the time machine. Greenish bubbles and a bit of smoke are leaking from under the hood, evidence that the last few tweaks, tune-ups, and attempts to repair damage inflicted on the rickety old thing are starting to not be enough. 

“I’ll do it this time,” Vinnie says, catching the keys when Cavendish tosses them at him. “Lemme walk you up.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of walking to my own home, Dakota,” Cavendish says with a roll of his eyes, but doesn’t protest any further as Vinnie follows him along the sidewalk to the stairs, and then up to the second floor. Cavendish’s apartments are nice, if a bit old-fashioned, grey and white buildings with green grass out front and lots of parking. Vinnie’s never been inside, but he assumes the interior is just as prim and maintained as the outside. 

“I’ll see ya tomorrow?” Vinnie asks as Cavendish digs his personal keys out of his pockets, digging around in his jacket and then his pants as he searches for them. 

“Of course,” Cavendish says, glancing over at him where Vinnie’s leaned up against the door jam, half-blocking access to the lock and knob. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Vinnie says, and his tone is clear that it  _ isn’t  _ nothing, so Cavendish frowns at him, eyes narrowed. They go wide again when Vinnie glances at Cavendish’s mouth, barely visible under the droop of his mustache, and bites his own lip. 

“Oh,” Cavendish says, sounding flabbergasted. Vinnie shrugs and looks away, anxiety and uncertainty churning in his gut. They haven’t talked about it, it’s been almost a week, and they haven’t even acknowledged it beyond agreeing that they didn’t want to  _ stop _ . They’ve been going about their lives like nothing has changed, but Vinnie can’t seem to stop thinking about Cavendish’s  _ mouth _ . Which is something he admits he’d thought about  _ before  _ they’d made out all over Cavendish’s desk and chair in the office, but now it’s worse because he knows what Cavendish tastes like. (It’s tea and spice, a bit of honey and mint and  _ heat _ .)

“We don’t—” Vinnie says after a deep breath, turning to look at Cavendish again. He’s interrupted when Cavendish leans down to press a quick, almost fearful peck against Vinnie’s mouth, like he’s not sure that’s what Vinnie wants. Cavendish barely pulls away after, and his cheeks are that lovely shade of pink again, like Vinnie’s made another dirty pun about Cavendish giving him a finger. 

Vinnie reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of Cavendish’s neck to pull him back down into another kiss, this one slower and softer. Cavendish seems to melt under his grip, leaning into him and bracing one hand against the wall by Vinnie’s shoulder. Cavendish groans into Vinnie’s mouth when he parts his lips to deepen the kiss, going up on his toes and wrapping an arm around Cavendish’s waist to hold him. 

They break apart for air and Cavendish’s face is soft and open, eyes hooded behind his glasses. Vinnie’s ready to pull him back in for another round at the sight, but instead Cavendish clears his throat and straightens up, pulling out of Vinnie’s hold. 

“Alright, uhm,” Cavendish says, straightening his already-impeccable suit jacket as Vinnie shifts his weight to the right so Cavendish can reach the door if he wants to. “Goodnight.” 

“G’night,” Vinnie says, watching Cavendish disappear into his apartment. Cav is smiling, and Vinnie figures that means it isn’t going to be a weekend he does over again. He heads down to the time machine to pop over a couple blocks and back a few hours so he can drop it at the shop before it closes for the day. 

The next morning he sleeps in till nine and wakes up to three messages from Cavendish on his phone telling him to wake up. They’re all in quick succession from seven AM to seven-fifteen, and Vinnie would put money on Cavendish having dropped his phone and broken it again since there haven’t been more since. He sends a quick “omw” text back whether or not Cavendish is able to receive it and then gets up and showers, humming under his breath as he goes about washing, shaving, and brushing his teeth. It’s Saturday, so he uses a couple fingers to pull down the lower lid of his left eye and slide the prosthetic out of place, cleaning it diligently and using a bit of clean tissue to dry it and clear the gunk out of the edge of his eye socket and the implant. He slides it back in and blinks a couple times to make sure it's in properly, noting in the mirror that each iris, brown and blue, don’t look out of place beyond their unmatched colors, and with a satisfied nod he finishes up in the bathroom before padding back into his bedroom in his underwear. 

They’re not working today, so instead of the tracksuit he pulls on some casual clothes, a few comfy favorites topped with a cap and an elastic holding his hair back, and then he puts on his sunglasses and gathers up his wallet and keys. Both are still in the pockets of yesterday’s tracksuit, so he digs them out and then locks up as he leaves. 

Unlike Cavendish’s apartments, Vinnie’s are a little more run-down, though the insides are pretty nice, newly remodeled actually. But the ruddy exterior walls and overgrown landscaping around it gives a lackluster impression, not to mention that similar to Cavendish’s, Vinnie’s apartments are a little old fashioned, since they don’t float. 

It’s warm and a little humid, so he stops at the nearest cafe to pick up iced coffee and boba, glad his choice of shorts today hasn’t bitten him in the ass. He hadn’t bothered to take note of the date beyond around his natural time period, as far as he’d known it was the dead of winter. 

The time machine is sitting outside the workshop, good as new. Well, good as new as the little junker time machine had initially been when it’d been commissioned for them by the Bureau. 

Setting his creme brulee iced coffee in the cupholder, Vinnie guides the time machine back a couple hours and over to Cavendish’s apartment, arriving at about seven fifteen. He climbs out of the car to see Cavendish descending the stairs, frowning at his phone. 

“Hey,” Vinnie calls, leaning on the top of the open car door, and Cavendish jumps in surprise. Cavendish swears as he drops his phone, fumbling to catch it, but fails and it bounces down the rest of the steps with a few decisive cracking sounds. Definitely broke it then. 

“Oh, blast,” Cavendish sighs, hurrying down the rest of the steps to scoop it up. “At least it wasn’t the temporal transporter this time.” 

“Good morning to you too,” Vinnie says, holding up a large brown sugar boba tea with creme caramel up for Cavendish to see. 

“Good morning,” Cavendish grumbles, tucking his broken phone in his pocket with a sigh. Vinnie takes advantage of Cav walking closer to give him a cursory look up and down. 

 

Like Vinnie he’s ditched their usual period garb for more casual clothes, trading the green and brown three-piece suit for a t-shirt and shorts made of soft, inviting material that has Vinnie reaching out to clap him on the shoulder when he gets close enough.

“We’ll get you another one,” Vinnie says as Cavendish takes the boba and sips at it with a bit of a pout. It’s cute, and Vinnie’s got a silly grin on his face before he can stop it, earning a raised eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?” Cavendish asks, reaching up to tilt his soft straw hat back away from his face.

“Nothing,” Vinnie says, and Cavendish hums like he doesn’t believe him, mustache twitching with amusement. “Wanna grab breakfast?”

“Yes, I could go for a bite to eat,” Cavendish says with a nod before pausing and looking Vinnie over with a frown. “What are you wearing?” Vinnie glances down at himself, taking in his own get up of matching gym shorts and socks, both yellow and orange, the pink t-shirt with jars across the front, and the green and pink hawaiian shirt over it.

“Cloooothes?” Vinnie asks, drawing it out into a question as he fails to understand Cavendish’s slightly offended tone.

“None of it _matches_ ,” Cavendish says, staring at Vinnie’s bare knees. “Your shoes are _pink_.”

“So’s my shirt, that matches,” Vinnie says, gesturing between the two.

“They don’t—nevermind,” Cavendish sighs, rolling his eyes. “You’d think I’d know better by now.”

“You’d think,” Vinnie agrees, watching Cavendish take a pull from his boba and getting distracted. He wonders if Cav’s mouth holds the sweet taste the same way it does the slightly bitter tone of  the hot tea he favors in the afternoons.

“-ota. Dakota!”

Vinnie blinks, shaking himself mentally as Cavendish glares at him from where he’s standing on the other side of the open door. He’s holding his boba with both hands  in front of his chest like a nervous child, and his cheeks are flushed warmly, though his glare makes Vinnie wonder if it’s more due to anger than attraction.

“Sorry, what?” Vinnie says and Cavendish sighs.

“I said we should go to a diner,” he repeats. “And then I pointed out that you were staring at me.”

“Oh.” Vinnie ducks his head, tugging the brim of his cap down as he blushes and tries to hide it. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

“You’re always distracted,” Cavendish mutters.

“Can you blame me?” Vinnie says under his breath as Cavendish turns around to start walking around the time machine to get in the other side.

“What was that?”

“Nothin’.”

Breakfast ends up the usual affair of quiet bickering before they pick a place and head out. Dakota spends the entire time trying to focus and not get distracted watching the way Cavendish’s mouth moves as he talks and eats. He gets glared at and fussy huffs of breath from Cavendish for his trouble.

“Hey, we should take your phone to get fixed,” Vinnie says as Cavendish is digging through his pockets for time period appropriate money.

“I suppose I’ll be paying for that as well?” Cavendish sighs, finally pulling a few wrinkled bills out and handing them to the cashier.

“Hey, I brought my wallet this time,” Vinnie says, waving it and flashing the cute cashier a grin when she giggles. Cavendish scowls at her as she hands him the change back.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just you two are too cute,” she says, making them blink and stare at her. “It’s always so nice to see couples that have been together forever come in. Have a nice day!”

 _“Couples—”_ Cavendish sputters, flushing and nearly crushing his hat as Vinnie grabs him and pulls him away before it can become a scene. “Dakota— _Dakota_ , what—”

“We’re never gonna see her again, what’s the point in correcting her?” Vinnie asks as he tugs Cavendish out of the diner.

“But—but she thinks we’re—” Cavendish protests, still pink in the face when they come to a stop by the time machine.

“Partners?” Vinnie teases, and Cavendish huffs angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. His mustache is bristling and his face is red, eyes bright under the shadow of his crooked hat. “Who cares what she thinks, huh?” Vinnie reaches up to brush his knuckles over Cavendish’s cheek before Vinnie can think better of it, smiling fondly at him. Cavendish just stares at him and Vinnie realizes what he’s doing, snatching his hand back like he’s been burned.

“A-anyway, we better go get your phone fixed, huh,” Vinnie says, laughing nervously as Cavendish stares at him for a few moments longer.

“Yes,” Cavendish says slowly, reaching up to touch his own cheek where Vinnie’s hand had been. Vinnie hopes his blush isn’t too obvious, and Cavendish is looking at him strangely before finally adding with a scowl, “you _are_ paying, right?”

“S’long as we go to the future, I think I’m all out of cash,” Vinnie says, peeling open his wallet to peer inside. “Oh, wait, no, I’ve got a couple bucks and a Subway gift card, but I think that’s only got, like, five dollars on it, but I’ve got enough in credits probably—”

“Just get in the car, Dakota,” Cavendish says, sounding amused. His mustache is twitching with a smile, and Vinnie can feel his mouth stretching into a goofy grin in response.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and they head off for the future together.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are love comments are life 
> 
> lmk if we missed any mistakes or [brackets!]


End file.
